


things you were afraid to say (colbert/person)

by coupe_de_foudre



Series: things you said [7]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Brad struggles to settle back into normal life, Fluff, I suck at tagging, Love Confessions, M/M, Sleep Deprivation, post-Afghanistan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27508936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coupe_de_foudre/pseuds/coupe_de_foudre
Summary: “Ray?”“What sort of greeting is that for your old pal, Ray-Ray?”
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Ray Person
Series: things you said [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999615
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	things you were afraid to say (colbert/person)

**Author's Note:**

> I had writer's block when I started this and told myself it didn't need to be longer than 300 words....I then put on Avril Lavigne and this happened so....enjoy? I guess??

It's been a week since they returned to the states, five days since most of them parted ways to visit their families, three days since Brad arrived home.

It's quiet.

That's the first thing he noticed when he stepped through the threshold, too tired to do much more than dump his duffel bag by his laundry basket and collapse onto his bed. At least he'd put fresh covers on before shipping out.

The thought doesn't leave his mind as he settles back into his stateside routine (wake early, go for his daily run, shower, cook breakfast, clean up and spend the afternoon in his garage). After being surrounded by his platoon in Afghanistan, spending day in, day out crammed into his humvee with constant activity and chatter, the lull of having a whole house to himself is almost chilling.

On the second night, he finds himself tossing and turning in bed actually wishing for Ray's dumb rants about meaningless shit. He almost misses that messed up hick and how he'd squeeze himself into Brad's grave despite the tight fit, curling up into his side and snoring obnoxiously.

But Ray is miles away, off visiting his family. Brad needs to get over it. 

It's not like this is the first time he's had to readjust to normal life, it just so happens that this is the first time he's actually missed someone.

On the third day, Brad doubles his running route, pushing his body to it's limit until he can feel that dull throbbing ache in all of his muscles. He spends the rest of the day passed out on his couch flicking through channels on the TV and purposefully not thinking about a particular brown-haired idiot with a smile brighter than the sun.

He must have dosed off because, before he knows it, the room is blanketed in shadows, the TV a glaringly bright intrusion that makes him wince. At first, he thinks that's what woke up but then the doorbell goes again.

He groans, stretching as he rolls off of the couch and pops his shoulders with the movement. It's gone 9pm, according to his phone, and he frowns wondering who on earth would be at his door at this time. He told his mother he'd see them next week and his sister would've called beforehand.

Ripping his door open, Brad's fully expecting a delivery driver to have just got the wrong number and to direct them to the right house. He's most definitely not expecting to find Ray stood on his doorstep, hair dishevelled, paler than ever, with a pillow tucked under his arm. 

“Ray?”

Despite looking like death, Ray smiles up at him and almost – _almost_ – looks back to his usual cheery self. “Brad!” He slaps Brad on the arm, playful pout on his face. “What sort of greeting is that for your old pal, Ray-Ray?”

Brad shakes his head. “What are you doing here?”

Ray doesn't meet his eyes, shifting the pillow in his arm. Brad glances behind him and sees his old truck parked in Brad's driveway. He wonders if he just drove back from his parents’.

“I-” Ray scoffs, shaking his head at his feet before blinking back up at Brad. His eyes linger on his chest and it's then that Brad realises he never bothered to throw a clean shirt on after his run. Not that Ray hasn't seen worse, they're marines for Christ's sake. “This sounds stupid, but...I haven't been able to sleep well for three days.”

“Didn't you go back home?” Brad frowns again, fingers raking through his hair.

“Yeah,” Ray sighs, “I didn't stay for long. It felt...weird?”

“So you've been driving for two days straight?” Brad balks, resisting the urge to shake Ray. 

Ray smiles, but the exhaustion is evident on his face. It's in the sunken look of his eyes, the almost bruise coloured area of skin below them, the way his smile seems strained. “It's not like I haven't done that before, homes. C'mon, you know me.”

“Yeah,” Brad nods, “I do know you. And I know if you don't get sleep now you're gonna pass out.”

“Nah, I could keep going if I wanted to-” 

“Ray, shut up.” Brad interrupts, trying not to overthink what he means by ‘if I wanted to’. “What are you doing here, at my door, in the middle of the night when you haven't actually rested since we got back.”

Ray's shoulders slump then, and he drags his eyes away from Brad. “I couldn't.”

“Couldn't what, Ray?”

Why did talking to him have to be like pulling teeth?

“I couldn't sleep!” Ray snaps, glaring at him with renewed fire in his eyes. “Not without you. Okay? I can't sleep without having your dumb oversized body next to mine because I'm a fucking disaster who managed to fall in love with your Viking ass in the middle of a damn warzone and now that we're home I don't know what to do!”

Brad froze, heart hammering too fast for his liking. His grip on the door tightens and all he can do is blink in surprise.

Ray groans, throwing his hands up in the air. “Great and now I broke you.” He runs his fingers shakily through his already messy hair. “Just, forget I said anything, okay? I-I'll see you when we have to go back to Pendleton.” Hugging his pillow to his chest, Ray spins on his heel and begins to walk away.

Whether it's the broken sound of his voice or watching him walk away, Brad isn't sure, but he snaps himself out of whatever trance he'd fallen into and takes two large steps forward. “Ray!” he calls out, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around Ray's bony wrist, tugging just harsh enough to get him to come to a halt. 

Ray turns with a quizzical yet defeated expression, opening his mouth to no doubt tell him to fuck off. Brad doesn't give him the chance.

With another sharp tug, he sends Ray tumbling forward into his chest. The pillow falls to the floor and Ray whines in protest, moving to grab it back. Brad smiles, capturing Ray's hand in his own and lacing their fingers together. “I have plenty of pillows.” he says, voice lower than before. Ray looks confused for a split second before Brad takes his other hand to hook underneath his chin, gently coaxing him up into a kiss and, for once, not giving a damn if anybody was watching. It's night time, he's behind a truck in his own damn driveway and he's never felt more at peace as Ray sighs into his mouth and leans closer. Screw what his neighbours think.

Untangling their fingers, Ray stretches to wrap his arms tight around Brad's neck, toying with the growing locks at the nape of his neck and successfully drawing a moan from the back of his throat. He can feel Ray's smile against his own, especially as he snakes his arms around Ray's waist and pulls him impossibly close. Nipping at Ray's lower lip, he smirks as the younger man grants him access without hesitation, but soon melts as the kiss deepens.

Like everything else in life, Ray throws his whole self into the kiss; his passionate and dirty and possessive, all teeth and tongue and lewd moans swallowed by each other, It's feels like a claim, burning hot and unforgettable, and Brad loves every second of it. The nails digging into his bare back definitely add to that idea.

If he were to be claimed by anybody, though, Brad realises that it makes the most sense for it to be Ray.

He trusts Ray with his life.

They pull apart with a wet _smack_ and Ray chuckles into his chest, sending a flurry of warmth through Brad. “Does this mean I can crash at your place for a bit?”

Brad laughs, fingers carding through Ray's hair before coming to cradle his face, pulling him back to meet his eyes. He smoothes his thumbs along his cheekbones, unable to wipe the smile off of his own face. “All you had to do was ask.” 

Before he can think better of it, Brad dips down and presses a soft kiss to Ray's forehead. It must have been the right move because Ray lets out a breathy laugh, leaning into his touch and allowing his eyes to fall closed as a smile plays over his lips. They stay there for a moment longer before reluctantly pulling apart and heading inside.

That night, they both sleep better than they had since Afghanistan.

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot stress enough how ooc I think my bradray is oof
> 
> tysm for reading <3


End file.
